Feels Like Tonight
by RRfan4life
Summary: What you don't know can't hurt you . . .or can it? Ross successfully kept Chloe a secret, but how will it affect him and his relationship with Rachel? [complete]
1. Chapter 1

Feels Like Tonight  
By Caity

**Plot Line:** Mid-season 3. Ross successfully covered the "trail" and kept his affair with Chloe a secret for Rachel. But how will it affect him and the couple's relationship? Will Rachel ever find out?

**A/N: **This is a fiction I just started the other week, so unlike my others, it's not finished yet. I only have about 2 and a half chapters done at this point. So any reviews here are doubly appreciated because I can use them :-P And if you're wondering, I'm still continuing "Your Ad Here" because that one's already finished on my computer. So there's about 4 or 5 chapters of that left. This fic doesn't affect it. BTW, this chapter begins right with TOW The Morning After.

* * *

Slugging into the kitchen, Ross went straight for the medicine cabinet. As if his situation could be worse, his head seemed to pound harder every minute with the hangover he'd accumulated last night. Or maybe last night, plain and simple, was what was reverberating in his mind. He hadn't even had a chance to think about it- he was too numb right now. 

Absentmindedly, he clicked the "play" button on his answering machine, after noticing the red light blinking.

"Hi, it's me," Rachel's sad voice seemed to fill the apartment, somewhat soothing Ross. At least for the moment. "I've been trying to reach you all night. I feel awful. Please, you gotta know there's nothing going on between me and Mark. This whole break-up thing is just stupid."

"Yeah!", he exclaimed in reply to the message.

It continued. "I'm just so sorry I put you through it. And, you know, I don't want to get back together over a machine."

"Nu-huh!", Ross agreed.

"So, I love you."

"I love _you_," he told her recorded voice.

"And, you know what, I'm gonna, I'm gonna go to bed now, but, uh, on my way to work tomorrow morning, I'm gonna stop by around 8:30."

8:30? Desperate, Ross grabbed the clock sitting on the counter. It was already 8:28. He looked towards his bedroom.

"Chloe, Chloe, how's it coming??"

Out came Chloe. She was still here?

She was still here.

And Rachel was coming.

-----

Rachel stopped a moment, trying to compose herself in the hallway of Ross's building. She still felt so bad from the night before, so guilty for being so short with Ross. All he did was try to spend their anniversary together. Now, thinking back, she probably could have spared a few minutes for him. Anything at all. But no, she had to show off at her new job . . .

She sighed deeply, shaking her head. There had to still be hope for them, right? It was Ross. They were Ross and Rachel. Things _had_ to work out. They _would_ work out. That's just how it had to go. It was _them_, after all.

She reached up to knock on the door, but it opened suddenly. She looked at Ross, confused. He must have just gotten her message.

"Rachel!", he exclaimed. She didn't notice how he looked rushed, or how frantic his manner was. Or that he was hiding something behind the door. She just saw Ross Geller- the man she loved, the man she would do anything to keep.

"Hi. Ohh, you got my message."

"Yeah, oh hey, you are right on time!" His voice got shrill, like it did when he was nervous. But she was so blinded by her continuing love for this man that she ignored it, or didn't even regard the change.

"So what do you say? Can I be your girlfriend again?", she asked, hopeful.

She was surprised by Ross pulling her into a tight hug. If he was that quick to forgive . . . ugh, it just made her feel that much worse.

"Yes, you can very much," he told her, stroking her hair. He saw Chloe's hand poke out from behind the door, giving him a thumbs up. He panicked, hugging Rachel tighter so she wouldn't see.

So oblivious.

-----

"Oh my God, oh my God!,"Chandler exclaimed.

Ross looked into the faces of his two best guy friends. Joey and Chandler both were in shock. After seeing the past two and a half years, the way Ross was with Rachel, it was just something they'd never expect of him. He hung his head, trying so hard how to figure this out.

"Yeah," added Joey. "We figured when we couldn't find you, you'd gone home to make up with Rachel. Which is probably what you shoulda done, huh?"

"You think?! God, I, ahh, I'm in _hell_. I mean what, what am I gonna do? Rachel's all like, 'I love you and, and let's work on this.' And all I can think about is, 'What is she gonna do? What is she gonna say?' when I tell her what I did."

Chandler raised his eyebrows. "Well, before we answer that, I think we should address the more important question.How dumb _are_ you?"

"What?!," Ross exclaimed. "Look, we're trying to rebuild a relationship here, right? How am I supposed to do that here, without being totally honest with each other?"

Chandler and Joey tried to get Ross to see that honesty, when it hurt the other person, was a road not to be taken. Ross found himself becoming convinced, wanting more than ever to not hurt Rachel further. They pressed the fact that he had to cover the "trail", from the person you slept with to the person you don't want to know.

"Okay, okay-okay, ah, Chloe works with that guy Issac," Chandler began. "Issac's sister is Jasmine. And Jasmine works at that massage place with Phoebe. And Phoebe's friends with Rachel. And that's the trail, I did it!" He beamed proudly at Ross.

Ross shot him a blank look, but took no time to start at the beginning of the trail. Where- or with who- this mess began.

-----

After going through Chloe and Issac, Ross continued down the trail to Jasmine. She was Issak's sister, and a coworker of Phoebe's. Ross prayed to God that the trail ended here, because if it went any further, there was no denying Rachel knew by now.

"Jasmine, I need to talk to you," he burst, running into the massage room.

"You did a bad, bad thing," she spat at him, glaring through narrowed eyes.

"Yes, yes, I know I did, but look," he sighed. "I love my girlfriend very much, and I don't want her to find out about this. Not yet. Please tell me you didn't tell Phoebe yet."

"I haven't."

Ross breathed a sigh of relief.

"But my roommate, he knows Rachel too. I almost told him, but he was already at work when I woke up."

"Please, please don't tell him," he pleaded.

"Fine, but you should know, Gunther hates being left out."

-----

After not finding Rachel at her apartment, Ross rushed to the coffee house. His first kiss with Rachel was there. He only hoped that it wouldn't be the place to witness their last meeting as a couple.

He saw her sitting at the window seat, staring out the window while sipping coffee.

"Rachel!"

She turned to look at him, her face lighting up at the sight. "Hey," she weakly offered.

He sat next to her, feeling such relief that Rachel didn't know. He didn't want to lie, especially in the midst of them working out their problems, but he figured everything would come in it's own time. He wanted to be stable with her again, he wanted them to be able to stand on their own feet. Then he could be completely honest, when he was sure their love was as strong as ever.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. It hurt him to see how guilty she felt, when he had done so much worse than her. But Chandler's voice echoed in his mind, and he kept his thoughts inside.

"Don't be, it's okay," he cooed, putting his arm around her shoulder and stroking her arm.

She leaned in, resting her head against him. "You're too forgiving," she joked. "Thank you for making this so easy."

He smiled weakly, in spite of himself. "If only it was," he thought. If only it was.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "Of course it's easy."

She sighed blissfully, thinking how she didn't deserve this treatment. Not knowing that he was feeling the same way, only a hundred times worse.

"How about I make some time for lunch today?", she asked.

"You're not too busy?"

"Not for you." She lifted her head and looked into his face. "Not anymore."

He felt like scum.

-----

Rachel entered Ross's apartment at night, using the new key he'd given her. It was a big surprise, but at their lunch, he'd explained that he didn't want any barriers between them anymore. If he could stride into her and Monica's apartment whenever he wanted, she should be able to do the same with him. She smiled at the fact that it all felt so domestic. And lunch had been great- they'd had a long talk about rebuilding their relationship. They knew now that love was only half the battle.

She tossed her keys and purse on the table in the front room, and retreated to the bathroom for a shower. She wondered when Ross would be home from the museum, hoping it would be soon. Almost on cue, she heard the front door open. Now everything felt ten times better. Nothing reassured her more than his presence in the next room. She sighed, closing her eyes and letting the warm water fall into her face.

Ross heard the shower going, knowing Rachel must be home. She'd stayed true to her work from earlier that day, getting out of work early to spend the night with him. She'd made a promise to make time for them. Except, when Ross thought he'd be comforted, he felt anxiety. He had no idea that keeping a secret would wear him down so quickly.

Rachel, meanwhile, was humming a romantic tune in the shower. "Tupelo Honey"- the song Ross had told her he thought was the most romantic song.

"Pretty," she heard a soft voice behind her. She turned around to see that Ross had silently entered the shower behind her, a loving smile on his face. "Keep going," he encouraged her, wanting her to continue her humming.

She continued through the song, but came towards Ross. She lay against him, buring her face in his chest and waiting for him to envelop her in his arms. When he did, she sighed happily. She knew everything would be alright, as long as she had him protecting her. They could make it through anything.

He stroked her lower back, trying hard to let her know that he still loved her. Trying to persuade her that they would be okay, that it would stay like this forever, just as it was before. Or maybe he was just trying to convince himself.

When they finished the shower, Rachel went to get the pair of pajamas she regularly left at Ross's. But instead, he grabbed her hand, leading her to his bed. He crawled beneath the sheets with her, holding her body close to his. With his cheek resting on her forehead, their arms around each other and legs intertwined, just like always.

"Ross?", he heard her whisper.

"Yes?", he mumbled, already half asleep.

"We're gonna be okay, right?"

Her voice was so small, yet so hopeful. His heart broke in two. He knew that, even if he waited for stability to reveal the true events of their anniversary night, it would crush her. Maybe . . .maybe she didn't have to know. What she didn't know couldn't hurt her. And he didn't want to hurt her- that was the last thing he'd ever want to do.

"Yeah," he whispered back, pausing. "We're gonna be fine."

He felt her smile against his chest, her arms tighten around him, and her hands on his back. They would be okay.

Right?


	2. Chapter 2

Feels Like Tonight

**A/N: **Eek, I've been preoccupied with updating "Your Ad Here", I forgot that I started posting this one haha. I hope the first chapter was enough to get you guys to continue, cause I just finished the fourth chapter on Friends Cafe, and I really like it. And seeing as this is only the second chapter, I hope you guys follow to see that one :-P Reviews are great! hehe

* * *

Rachel woke up to a soft, warm kiss on her neck, followed by the nuzzle of Ross's nose against her skin. She smiled, stretching widely before opening her eyes to the new morning. She saw Ross bent over her, dressed in sweat pants but with a tray of breakfast.

"Want something to eat?", he asked softly.

She looked at him, obviously amused but with a hint of confusion. Glancing at the clock, she realized that she still had about an hour and a half before having to go to work. And, whether it was that or ten minutes, she knew she'd make time for Ross either way. She regretted her actions two nights ago more than anything. Her relationship was now number one.

"I do _not_ deserve you," she told him, chuckling nonetheless. He nestled in beside her on the bed, throwing an arm around her waist to keep her close as she tried the pancakes he'd put on the tray for her. "Oh, wow, these are good."

"Bisquik," he whispered into her ear, jokingly. She giggled.

"How can I repay you?" she enticed, with a mischievous grin, moving to sit on top of him.

He reached up to hold her waist, running his hands up and down her sides. Here she was, so ready to move on and go back to being the Ross and Rachel they were before. And there he was, not able to do it. Not this soon. Not when, less than fourty-eight hours before, he'd been in bed with another woman. It didn't feel right, and he wasn't sure when it would again. Just not now.

"Um, don't you have to get ready for work?" he tried, his voice coming out a bit shaken.

Her face fell a bit, sending his heart down into his stomach. She moved off him to the side, looking at him curiously.

"I guess . . ."

Thinking fast, he worked to control what damage he might have just done.

"I just think that, uh, maybe it's too soon. Rebuilding, right?"

Much to his relief, she smiled. She nestled back up against his side, throwing her arm across his chest and sighing contently. They could lay there all day anyway, and not make it any more, and she'd be fine with it. But she _did_ have work, so she reached her hand up to bring his face down for a soft kiss, before ambling out of bed to get dressed.

-----

Rachel visited Monica at the diner for lunch, since Ross found himself piled with work at the museum. She spun around on the stool at the counter, waiting for Monica to finish preparing her "Barbara Streisandwitch" that she'd ordered. It was weird sitting there now, at the stool she regularly occupied. She'd met Mark here, a day she now noted as the beginning of her relationship's deterioration.

"Here ya go," Monica happily chirped, handing Rachel her meal. She noticed Rachel's silent, meloncholy air. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Rachel replied, sighing. "Just thinking about Ross."

"I thought you guys were okay, working on everything."

Rachel stared at her food, picking at the fries but not eating anything. "Yeah, we are. I really wanna make everything work. You know how much I love your stupid brother," she joked. Monica smiled.

"So then what's bugging you?"

"I met Mark here."

Monica now shot her a disappointed stare. "Rachel, you can't lay all the blame on you. My brother's a jealous moron!"

This caused Rachel to chuckle softly, much to Monica's happiness.

"I know, Mon. It's just . . . I think I might have hurt him more than he's letting on. With that 'break' thing. I mean, he's been doing everything pretty normal, just . . . it feels a bit guarded. He _turned down _sex this morning."

"Aaand this brings us to my brother's sex life," Monica sarcastically interrupted. Rachel smiled sadly.

"I don't have details. Like I said, he turned me down. It was . . . weird. He's never done that."

"Have you talked about it?"

"A little, at lunch. We talked about wanting to make things work, taking everything step-by-step again. But, I mean, I still spent the night at his place. Nothing seemed different until this morning."

"Maybe he doesn't want to do it for the wrong reasons. You know, just to get close again."

"Yeah, maybe," Rachel offered, though visably not satisfied with that answer. She sighed, finally biting into her sandwitch as Monica tended to a few new customers. She thought back to all the events of the previous few weeks. Her new job, Mark, the demanding schedule. Her telling Ross that she liked having a world he wasn't a part of.

What had she been talking about? Now, after nearly losing him, she couldn't imagine him not being in every aspect of her life. Maybe telling him that, combined with the intense fight and the proposed break, he didn't want to be vulnerable again. He didn't want to let his guard down to hear more things along the line of, "Maybe it's a good thing that you're not a part of it," or, "a break from _us_."

Rachel would have to prove to him that _she_ was wrong.

-----

"So how's things with Rachel, man?", Chandler asked as they settled into the orange couch at Central Perk.

"I don't know. I mean, she seems fine," Ross replied. "A little shaken from everything, but . . . basically fine."

"Well, that's good," Joey joined in. "She has no idea?"

Ross shook his head, but was obviously upset.

"What's wrong, then?"

"She feels like this was all her fault. She keeps apologizing, and trying to make it up to me, and asking if we're gonna be okay. It's _killing_ me. This is so not all her fault! I hate that she thinks that." He buried his face in his hands.

"I don't follow," Joey said, confused.

"Well," Chandler began explaining. "Have you ever told a lie?" Joey nodded. "Have you ever felt guilty about it?"

"Oh, _that's _why I don't get it. No."

"What am I gonna do, guys?", Ross interrupted. "I couldn't even have sex with her this morning! I just felt . . . dirty."

"Then, goddamn it, take a shower!", Joey shouted. Both Ross and Chandler shot him annoyed- and confused- glances.

"I give up with him," Chandler said.

-----

Ross entered Monica and Rachel's apartment late that night, at a call from Rachel about a late dinner. Monica and Phoebe were in the living room, watching music videos while Phoebe hummed along, bopping her head. He hung his coat on the hooks by the door.

"Hey, guys"

"Hello, _loverboy_," Phoebe teased, giggling.

"Hi Ross," said Monica, smiling as she hugged her brother. "Rachel's in her room, she said to go right in." Before Ross could move to the door, Monica caught him by the arm, pulling him aside. "How are things going with you two? Getting better?"

He stared at the snow swirling outside the window, hesitating a bit before answering. "I hope so. I mean, she really wants us to work through this. And I'm glad, I mean, I'm not mad at her anymore."

"That's good," Monica replied. "Now get in there!"

Bidding goodnight to the girls, he opened the door to Rachel's room, quickly shutting it behind him before Phoebe could throw out some comment. The sight in front of him floored him. Rachel had adorned the room in rose petals and scented candles. He spotted her lighting the last few, wearing nothing but the infamous "black thing he likes". When she heard him, however, she snapped up.

"Hey," she whispered, smiling at him warmly. This would make up for everything she'd done, she was sure.

"Hi," he replied, confused. He cocked his head at her. "Special occasion?"

"No, not really," she casually fibbed, walking up to him and running her hands up his chest. When they reached his shoulders, she wrapped them around his neck, pulling him into a passionate kiss. They hadn't kissed like this since before the "break". It was heaven for Rachel. It was running a thin line from hell for Ross.

He pulled back, searching her eyes for some answer. "This isn't for the wrong reasons, is it?", he asked softly.

She looked up at him, and he couldn't help but notice how delicate her gaze was. She began unbuttoning his shirt, but there was something in this that seemed hesitant.

"No," she reassured him. "It's because I love you."

She threw his shirt aside, taking his hand and leading him to lay on the bed. He was used to her often taking control in these situations, but he knew he shouldn't let her here. She needed to know that he wasn't hurt by her anymore. She needed to know he was okay. And, even though he was far from okay, he needed her to think he was. So rather than let her lie on top of him, he moved her underneath.

He wasn't any more ready to be with her again than the morning, but it had to happen eventually. And when she was kissing and undressing him the way she was now, he found it physically impossible to stop.

He undressed her quickly, hoping she didn't notice him rushing. He felt lower every minute, with her perfectly willing to please only him tonight. She shouldn't have to make up for anything. Chloe aside, it should still be him apologizing to her. Therefore, he wouldn't let her do any of the work tonight. She saw it as absolution, he saw it as redemption.

He kissed her neck vigorously before beginning, feeling her breath a sigh of relief below her.

"What?", he chuckled.

"Nothing," she whispered back, smiling. "I'm just happy that we're alright. You're fine, right?"

She never looked smaller to him than she did now. And it hit him- _she_ was now the vulnerable one. She had the insecurities that he normally had- thinking why he would want to be with her, what she did to deserve this. _She_ needed to be reassured and reminded of his love. She was him, pre-break.

"Everything's great," he managed to sound genuine. He kissed her tenderly before she grabbed a condom out of her bedside drawer, where she learned to keep them after the incident when only one was in the bathroom, and Monica had needed it also. There was no turning back now.

As Ross heard her gentle whimpers and whispered "I love you"s, his self hatred slowly grew. He didn't deserve to be with her. She didn't deserve to have him, this man who'd been with another woman and kept it a secret, to be with her. He attempted to bury his emotions only to keep her safe, away from harm. They'd been through so much that she didn't need that now. She just needed him, loving her like always.

Moving above her, he dipped his head down to kiss the salty skin of her neck, feeling her hands on his back, pulling him closer. He concentrated deeply on her pleasure, trying hard as he could to redeem the secrets stirring in his mind. When he came, he released his weight on top of her, certain that she had been able to finish. After a few minutes, when their heartbeats slowed down and their heavy breathing subsided, Ross rolled to his back and cuddled her to his side.

Kissing her forehead, he sat back and waited to feel better. He was sure that being there for her, especially when she had been so intent on being there for him, would ease the burden of his night with Chloe. Only . . . he felt worse.

It wasn't helped by Rachel hugging his midriff tightly, nuzzling her face into his shoulder, kissing him lightly there.

"I love you," she said gently.

"I love you too," he replied. A true statement. Maybe the only completely honest thing he'd said that night. He wrapped his arms more tightly around her, as his eyes filled with quiet tears when he came to a realization.

When she found out, he'd lose her forever.

And he had no doubt that, eventually, she'd find out.

"I love you so much," he whispered again, his voice breaking. He was sure she was already asleep, so he cried silently, knowing his days were numbered. He'd have to enjoy it while it lasted, and numb the pain. Forget the burden. Live in the moment.

Because he didn't know how long it would last.


	3. Chapter 3

Feels Like Tonight

**A/N: **Chapter 3 :-) I wasn't a fan of the actual situation in this chapter, but oh well. It didn't come out so bad :-P

* * *

Rachel unlocked Ross's apartment door and let herself in. As she threw her things down onto the couch, she looked around curiously. Where was he? She knew he had taken the day off of work to play with Ben, but neither were anywhere to be found. She listened to the silence for a moment, but heard nothing. The apartment had a weird air about it.

"Ross?", she called. No answer. "Ross, where are you?"

She wandered the apartment, checking the small kitchen and bathroom. Finally, she reached the bedroom. For some reason, the door was closed. And even stranger, it was locked.

"Ross?", she called again as she knocked on the door. "Are you in there?"

Still no answer. She jiggled the doorknob, still knocking and trying to figure out who was in there. "Is everything okay? Ross, open the door!"

Somehow, she jiggled the knob so much that it unlocked. As the door swung out in front of her, the worst sight imaginable came into view. Ross was in bed, making passionate love . . .to another woman.

She stood there, stunned, her jaw hanging open. She felt tears sting her eyes.

"What is going on?" she hollered.

Ross finally turned to look at her, opening his mouth to answer.

_Riiiiiiiiinnnggg..._

Rachel bolted up in bed, a cold sweat beading down her forehead. Her movement caused Ross to immediately wake up next to her, sitting up quickly to make sure everything was okay.

"The alarm usually doesn't wake you," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Ross . . . oh my God."

He noticed how she was shaking, her hand on her chest. All the makings of a startled, frightened Rachel. He drew nearer to her, wrapping his arms around her and gently pulling her to lay her head against his chest.

"Shhh, it's over Rachel. Did you have a bad dream?"

She merely nodded, too stunned with the dream and still upset over it. She knew, now, that it wasn't real . . . but the surprisingly realistic image was fluttering through her mind, and even though Ross's strong body was supporting her, and he was kissing her forehead, she could only think of him causing her pain. He would never hurt her like that, why was she so upset?

"What happened?", he whispered. She pulled away, shaking her head to signal that she didn't want to say. But he noticed how a few stray tears seemed to find their way out of her eyes, and he softly brushed them away with the pad of his thumb. "It's done now, I'm right here. Are you okay?"

She sunk back into his embrace. "Can you promise me something?"

"Anything."

Sniff. "Please, just . . . promise to never hurt me. Okay? Don't . . .", she trailed off, stifling a sob into his shoulder.

He froze. Did she . . . no, she couldn't have. In her sleep? Of course not. Her dream just must have been about someone hurting her.

"Of course not, Rach," he cooed. He broke out into his own sweat at the words. He couldn't keep doing this, not for long.

-----

It had been a little over a month since the incident of the "break". They tried hard to work past it, becoming closer by the day, making time for each other and their relationship. Rachel was already fine, though Ross noticed an increase in her affection and a certain neediness that hadn't been there before. But nothing serious was wrong. He's successfully masked his own predicament, finding it easier by the day to forget about it.

Every step assured him that, maybe, he was doing the right thing.

After a few days, he could kiss her without worrying.

After a week, he could make love to her without feeling guilty.

After a month, he could watch her sleep without shedding a tear.

The dream, however, erased all the steps. Once again, he hit rock bottom. What had happened in that dream? He had no idea, only that it caused Rachel to cling to him like a frightened young child. And every word of condolence he whispered in her ear felt like he was feeding her lies off the tablecloth.

Now, more than ever, he was determined to keep his secret under lock and key. Maybe she wouldn't find out. Maybe, just maybe, he could grow to be the old Ross from before. Innocent, sweet, and adoring. The Ross that Rachel fell in love with. Not this monster he'd become, cheating and lying.

What had this done to him?

And, even more mysterious, what happened in that dream to shake Rachel so much?

-----

Rachel lounged on the couch in her apartment, staring at nothing in particular while Monica cooked them a light dinner in the kitchen.

"Sweetie, you just have to remember that it was a _dream_," Monica tried to convince her distraught friend. Rachel had told her about the dream, opening up about the worries and anxieties and insecurities the dream had brought her.

"I know that, Mon, it's just . . . it felt so real."

"But it wasn't. He was right there when you woke up, right? I mean, Ross isn't cheating on you. I think we both know that."

"It's just . . .", Rachel sighed, letting her head lay back on the cushy pillow and closing her eyes. "I've never even thought of him doing that. It never even crossed my mind, you know? I mean, it's _Ross_. But, what if . . . what if he did? I know he probably wouldn't, but-"

"Would you stop talking crazy?", Monica interjected. "Ross adores you so much, Rach. He would never want to hurt you on purpose. You could probably do the worst thing imaginable to him, literally rip his heart out, and he'd _still_ want you. He'd still love you. I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"It's just the thought that he could, Monica," Rachel said weakly, her strength on the subject wearing. "Chip did it, Barry did it, Paulo almost did it. Who's to say Ross couldn't? Who's to say he's not the same as everyone else."

"You, of all people, should be the one to say he's different than them," Monica scolded. "You know for a fact that Ross is nothing like those asses. He was going to take you to the prom when Chip was late! He helped you get through the Barry fiasco because his marriage fell apart too. And who was there after you broke up with Paulo?"

Rachel smiled, remembering that night three years ago, out on the balcony. He'd been the first of them to console her, to hug her, to make her feel like she was so much above someone like Paulo.

"You're right," she agreed. "I don't know what's going on with me, but I'll try to get over it. Now," she stood up. "Done with dinner yet?"

-----

After Monica and Rachel ate up the last remains of their meal, Phoebe jubilently made her way through their door.

"Hey, guys! Crap, you had dinner already. I was hoping to score some food!"

"Leftovers," Monica replied, pointing to the fridge. Phoebe went to help herself. "Oh, the lasagna has meat in it, but there's some mixed vegetables. I'm sure Joey will come for the lasagna soon, anyway."

When Phoebe had warmed up the last scraps of the vegetables in the microwave, she turned to do some typical girl chat with her friends. Immediatly, with her inane but keen sense of atmosphere, she realized something was still bugging Rachel.

"Whoa, what's with your aura today?"

"She had a dream that Ross cheated on her," Monica volunteered.

Rachel threw her an annoyed look, knowing Phoebe would undoubtably make her talk about it again. And it was really one of the last things Rachel wanted to relive, because despite what she told Monica, she was still bothered by it.

"Really? Ross cheating? That's pretty intense."

"Yeah, thanks," Rachel sarcastically replied.

"Well, why do you think it bothers you so much?"

"Because there's just the thought that he could! I mean, Ross is such a sweet guy, I know that. But I just can't shake the feeling that it's possible. I mean, if he ever did, I'd be so heartbroken . . ."

Her voice cracked, as she scrunched her face to prevent any more tears from escaping out her exhausted eyes. Phoebe got up to stand in back of Rachel, hugging her shoulders from behind.

"It's okay, Rach. I know you've been hurt before. Just know that Ross, he's the one that's not going to. He's the one that's gonna stay, honey. He is so much different from anyone else."

"I know," Rachel managed to croak out.

"Just know we're here for you," Monica chimed in, joining Phoebe and making the hug a group hug.

"And you could always talk to Ross about it," Phoebe suggested.

-----

Ross turned the corner, striding home from the train station he'd taken to the Village form work. He felt like making doing something for Rachel tonight, considering all the craziness of the early morning. He stopped quickly into a small video rental store, picking up _Weekend at Bernie's_, Rachel's favorite movie. Maybe a quiet night on the couch was all they needed to calm down. Just them, a bowl of popcorn, and a warm blanket to cuddle under.

As he stood out on the street, waiting for a cab, he realized what he was standing in front of. The copy store.

He didn't even stay long enough to decipher the figures moving quickly behind the windows. He turned on his heel, frantically continuing his way down the street. It took quite a few blocks for him to realize he was headed the wrong direction. He signaled at a passing cab, quickly getting in and giving him directions so he wouldn't pass the copy store again. He didn't think he could bear to see her. Not Chloe. Not now.

He got home, noticing Rachel was still at her place. He called her up.

"Hey, are we still at my place tonight? Cause I rented a movie and I'm popping some popcorn right now."

"Sure, sweetie, I'll be right over. Just let me get some stuff."

"Are you okay? You should a little shaken."

"Yeah, I'm fine. But you do, too . . . everything okay?"

He winced. "Good as gold."


	4. Chapter 4

Feels Like Tonight

Later that night, Ross found himself warmly snuggled under the afgan in his living room, Rachel fast asleep with her back to his chest. He stared at the screen of the television as the credits of _Weekend At Bernie's _cascaded down the screen. Reaching over to the coffee table, he grabbed the remote to shut off the VCR. The room was bathed in darkness as he switched the television off all together. The only gleam of light glowed softly through the blinds of the window across the room. They caught his eye, and he followed the beams to where they lay.

He could see their fine lines stretched lazily across Rachel's sleeping form. With his arms around her middle, he could feel her stomach contract and relax with every breath she took. Steady but slow. The sound of her breathing always put him at peace. He considered waking her, if only briefly, to move into his bed. But he knew her disdain at unwelcome wake-up calls, so he rather opted for grabbing the other knit blanket slung over the couch and pulling it over them.

It was late at night, but Ross had never felt more awake. His eyelids felt heavy, his body felt comfortable, but something was holding him back from drifting into the infinite recess of his unconscious.

Guilt. Pure, unadulterated guilt.

Not that he hadn't been feeling that since that first-anniversary-turned-nightmare.

Not that had hadn't had a full night's sleep since then.

Night seemed to be when the images of his mistake haunted him. When he closed his eyes, he saw Rachel from that night. Worn, defeated, exhausted. Proposing a break. Practically begging him through her eyes to leave her be.

When he opened his eyes to clear the image, he saw himself. Lonely even in her company. Head filling with thoughts of wrong-doings and lies and what was borderline deceit, intentional or not. The more he kept this inside, the more he yearned to be close to her, and the farther away he felt. He ached for their formerly innocent relationship.

Rather than focus on the present, and the situation at hand, he thought back to a simpler time.

An anxious, rain-soaked bride stumbling into Central Perk, looking for a friendly face. Telling her father she didn't need him, despite reservations on the subject. A spoiled girl, cutting up her credit cards, joining the struggle of the real world. The shared cookie that could have turned into something more, but led to a simple, flourishing friendship.

He smiled to himself. He'd always been so proud of how Rachel completely started her life over, leaving the safety of her parents at Long Island and joining the six friends in the Village. He'd never seen someone make a complete 360 in such short time. Well, maybe not complete, but on her way. There were still reminants of the original Rachel beneath the slightly more grown-up version.

He remembered so many missed chances that first year, not just the cookie. Taking her to the laundromat to teach the "laundry virgin" how to wash her own clothes. So endearing in her quality of being new a process so mundane that he hadn't given it much thought in years. Then the night of the blackout, and how any chance had been dashed with the startling presence of a lost cat, and even more annoying presence of a certain Italian. The moment on the balcony after Paulo had been cast aside, the strong hug he embraced her in. The words of support and love that she didn't pick up on. The night they'd found Marcel, sitting close together with nothing but a bottle of wine and wondering minds, only to be ruined with the arrival of her ex-fiance.

While the first year, originally, planted a million regrets in his mind, he looked back on them now with a smile. He cherished the close friendship that had resulted, remembering how Joey had called him the "mayor" of the friend zone. He was so lovesick that he barely remembered anything else from that year, only her. Everything about her.

His thoughts shifted to one night, where, out of the blue, he'd learned of Rachel's growing feelings. The initial panic when he realized he was with another woman. The cat he was unable to get because of one nagging thought . . .

The epiphany they'd both experienced in the one, hazy, passionate moment, when the two souls finally collided just inside the doors of the coffee shop.

He even chuckled to himself, thinking of how long after that first kiss it had actually taken them to get together. This caused Rachel to gently stir in her sleep, opening her eyes softly.

"Shh, go back to sleep," he cooed.

He allowed her to turn over, laying her cheek on his chest and releasing her weight back onto him. He lazily stroked her back, still lost in the memories of yesteryear. She looked up at him, noticing the far-off look in his eyes.

"Whatcha thinking about?", she whispered sweetly.

"Remember the list?", he asked with a small chuckle. She wrinkled her brow in slight confusion, in reply to the randomness of the question. Even though he had not specified it, and it was a scarcely discussed part of the past, she knew exactly what he meant.

"Yes," she answered, hesitantly. "Why?"

"I was just thinking about the past. All that stuff we went through before we got together. I was an idiot, huh?" He smiled, which she returned.

"Yeah, a little," she joked. Her face softened and her eyes became pensive. "I wanted to be mad at you forever. It was so hard to watch your face when you tried to give me that slinky for Christmas." She giggled nostalgically.

"But you forgave me," he whispered.

"Because it turned out you loved me a lot more and a lot longer than I thought. Afro-boy."

They shared a quiet laugh at the memory of a 1987 Ross, playing his keyboard on the stairs of the Geller household. Rachel decided to join in Ross's mind-journey to their past, offering up her own memories.

"Remember when I laughed the first time we fooled around?"

"God, that was embarassing."

"How do you think it was for me? I was the one laughing."

"I was the one being laughed at," he reminded her.

"I didn't laugh at the planetarium," she reminded, her voice barely above a whisper. They grew quiet for a few long minutes, lost in the far-away memory of their first night together. Nestled together on the fur blanket underneath the twinkle of the stars on the ceiling, the gentle tune of obscure love songs playing in some other part of the room they weren't paying attention to. Each other was all that mattered. That final absolution that, just maybe, they finally got their timing right. The year and a half of work up to this point, all the waiting, was all worth it. In that moment, they had each other.

It wasn't long before Ross felt Rachel's breath slow down, indicating that she'd once again drifted into a dreamy haven. He saw a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. She was comforted by the happenings of their past.

He was bothered by them.

Still decending downward towards the present, certain days of the past year slide over him like molasses. The day she'd assured him that he was the best relationship she'd ever been in. Their unexpected and fearful, but determined first "I love you"s, shouted in a moment of realization that their relationship was something more. When he almost drank the fat, just to show Rachel how much he needed her. Enduring hours of torture with her father.

Her getting her new job hit him like a brick. And so the downward spiral of their relationship began. The jealousy. The feeling of abandonment. The need for each other when they just weren't there.

Hearing Rachel's voice on the other end of the phone, only to hear Mark's behind it. Having his heart ripped out of his chest and bleeding over the floor, only to be temporarily picked up by the very reason he found himself awake right now.

And so here he arrived. Possibly the worst boyfriend in the world. It didn't matter that he wanted to keep her from hurting. It didn't matter that he forgave her for any little thing she did in comparison to his larger mistakes. It didn't matter that he loved her. Hell, it didn't even matter that he slept with another woman.

The only thing that mattered was that he lied about it.

Thinking back to that hurt, insecure boy just getting out of a divorce, and forward, to this tortured, lying man who he had become, he really took a look at himself. He had everything he ever wanted since he was a teenager. He had the woman of his dreams, and her love in return. All she'd done was love him. All he'd done was try to love her, but hurt her instead.

And she still had no idea.

The list was just about the smallest little problem compared to this one.

In fact, he almost wished that was all he had done _this_ time.

"Want to go to bed?", he heard her soft voice. He hadn't even felt her wake up this time.

"Sure."

Getting up slowly, she pushed the warm blanket back so they could both get off the couch. She took his hand to lead him to the bedroom, him following behind like a child being told it was bedtime.

She shedded the top layer of her clothing, waiting for him to to the same. When he was only in his boxers, she brought him to the bed, cuddling up tightly against his side.

"Don't let it bother you, Ross."

"What?", he asked in confusion.

"The past. Don't let it get to you. We're still Ross and Rachel, okay?"

He sighed deeply.

"I know we are."

"I love you. Now, go to sleep."

As she rested her head on his chest, he kissed the top of it, smelling the familiar scent of coconut.

"I love you, too."

He wrapped his arms around her, resting his cheek on her forehead.

Never before had he yearned so hard to go back in time. Revisit his former innocence. Be renewed. Take it all back. He'd never felt so helpless. How could he fix things? What did he owe Rachel?

Everything, he realized.

But he wasn't sure he could give her everything right now.

How he fell asleep that night, he never knew. How he was able to forget, for just a few hours, the weight of his lies. With one dream of singing "Copa Cabana" with her in front of a group of unsuspecting people at her former fiancee and best friend's wedding, he allowed himself to believe they _were_ the old Ross and Rachel. The one Rachel believed them to still be. The one he wouldn't stop trying until he felt they were. Until _he_ was.

If he ever could be.

He woke up that morning with a sigh, his heart erased of all and any regret but one.

Now, how to manage it without hurting her?


	5. Chapter 5

Feels Like Tonight

**A/N: **Wow, I didnt know until I uploaded this that it's like 1000 words longer than the last chapter, haha. Well I just wanted to say thanks to those of you reviewing :-P Cause I love reading reviews, it helps me know if Im taking a story in the right direction. So please, drop a review! They're awesome

* * *

He woke silently, batting his eyelids a few times before turning to his other side and burrowing in the covers. It was too early for this. Too early for these regrets to bombard his mind as they normally did. He was too tired to feel guilty.

He felt her breathing next to him. Slight relief. It was amazing how the simple sound of her shallow breathing while she slept always had such an effect on him. From that first night in the planetarium, it just amazed him. It seemed to whisper, call out to him that everything would be alright. She was here. He let the sound lull him back to a light sleep.

Suddenly, a light came into the room, piercing enough for Ross to see through his closed eyes. He immidiately awoke.

"Whahsthat?", he mumbled together incoherently. When his eyes got used to the light and he could stop constantly blinking, he saw a smiling Rachel standing next to the blinds. "Whadjadothatfor?"

"Cause its almost noon. Thank God for Saturdays, huh?"

She sidled up to the bed, sitting next to Ross. "Good morning. Or afternoon, as I should say."

He leaned up, smiling into a kiss. Leave it to Rachel to not only sleep in that late, but let him think it was okay. Though neither of them were even close to being morning people, Ross was at least logical about it. But Rachel was always one to sleep in at any chance possible. And the weekend always gave her that chance. It was surprising how much the smallest hint of familiarity comforted him. Reaffirmed the past, not persisted that it had changed.

They took a quick shower together before grabbing a light breakfast- or lunch, seeing how late it was. They decided to go check in with the gang at Rachel and Monica's, just as they did every Saturday. They bundled up, for winter was still in its last dregs, and headed out along to way to her apartment. Since they hadn't bothered to grab their wallets, for no reason in particular, they walked instead of getting a cab.

Ross smiled to himself on the way from his place to Rachel's. He wasn't looking at her, just walking next to her as their fingers laced together lazily in the space between them. This was normal. This was comfortable. This was healthy.

For a moment, Ross closed his eyes and let himself believe. He could work past this. The light at the end of the tunnel was nearer with every step he took, he could almost feel it's beams on his face. He was almost there. Last night could have haunted him, but he wouldn't let it. He would make the past a place of solace- a guide as to how to go about things now. Not a symbol for how much he'd fucked things up.

"What are you doing?", he heard her ask.

He hadn't noticed that she was staring at him, her head cocked to the side in confusion as to why he'd been walking with his eyes closed. He chuckled, mostly to himself, before wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer to his side.

"Just thinking."

"Of what?", she asked curiously, leaning into him and resting her head on his shoulder.

"You."

He could feel her smile against his shoulder.

-----

"So what do you guys wanna do?"

"I don't know, what do you wanna do?"

"But what about _you_, Joey? What do you wanna do?"

"I don't know Phoebs. Any ideas of what _you _wanna do?"

"Oh my God, if you two don't shut up, I'll kill myself and _then_ you'll have something to do!", Chandler shouted at the innocent faces of a bored Phoebe and Joey. Sometimes, sitting up in an apartment in the middle of a weekend day left little to do.

"Why don't we go see a movie?", Rachel suggested.

"I've seen movies," Phoebe replied. "Oh, I know! Let's go base-jumping!"

"You want to jump off a building?", Monica asked her, confusion clouding her face.

"Oh, _that's _what that is? Then no. It's too cold out for that now."

The six friends sat back in their seats, simultaneously letting out a sigh. Phoebe leaned against the television stand, Joey sitting in a chair that he had pulled in from the kitchen next to her. Chandler sat in the comfy armchair, his hands gripping the arms and his eyes blankly staring foreward in complete and utter boredom. Monica sunk into the cushion of the couch, next to a visably comfy Ross and Rachel. Her legs were draped over his and her head rested on his shoulder while his arm wound around her back. She played with his free hand in his lap. The two of them would be totally content to sit like this, quietly whispering and giggling to each other.

"Well, _someone's _having fun, and it's not me!", Chandler shot accusingly at the two. They looked up, startled due to being pulled out of their little bubble. "Stupid people with their stupid relationships . . .", he mumbled.

"Why don't we go get some coffee?", Monica asked them all. Phoebe groaned, Rachel rolled her eyes, and Chandler had to let out just one more sarcastic quip.

"Like we never do _that_."

"I think you've met your quota for the hour," Ross told him, not even bothering to look up.

"Well, fine, I'm going to check on the chick and duck!", Joey announced. Shortly before, he had bought Chandler a pet chick. In an effort to return the chick, Chandler had instead bought a duck companion for it. No one really understood it, but then again, you didn't question the strange world of Chandler and Joey.

"Oh, me too!", Phoebe exclaimed. "Hey, lets put the duck in the bathtub and let it swim!"

"Okay!"

"Hey, I'm coming too!", Chandler desperately called after them. In response to the confused faces from the other three, questioning why watching a duck swim was any more entertaining than sitting here, he merely replied, "With a duck, there's water. There's splashing. You guys just sit here and vegetate." As if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

After rolling her eyes, Monica got up to go bustle around in the kitchen. Before long, she heard a loud, involuntary giggle come from the couch. She whipped around to see Ross assaulting Rachel playfully, kissing her neck as she batted him away lightly with her hands.

"You know, you do have a room to do that in."

The two looked up, as if they'd forgotten Monica was there. They quickly straightened themselves out before joining Monica in the kitchen.

"Need any help, Mon?", Rachel asked. Before Monica could answer, Ross walked up behind Rachel, lightly slapping her ass as he passed her. "_Hey_, mister!"

"I win," he stated simply, smiling. He even went so far as to wink. She narrowed her eyes.

"That's what you think."

"And if you're going to continue this little game," Monica butted in, exasperated, "Please do it in the sanctity of your bedroom. That's what doors are for."

Rachel knew Monica was still a little sore seeing couples act, well, couple-y. She stood behind her, rubbing her shoulders supportively. "We're done, Mon. Anyway, if he thinks he's getting any right now, he's really out of his mind." She shot Ross a look as he pretended to act hurt by her words.

"Look, do_ you _guys wanna get some coffee? It's better than sitting up here-", a duck quack was heard from across the hall, "-and hearing that."

"Sure, but we didn't bring anything," Ross said, just realizing. "I'll walk back and get our wallets."

"Alright," Rachel answered, trailing after him to the door. She gave him a soft kiss and a sweet smile before be grabbed his coat and headed out of the apartment. "Love you," she called after him.

"Love you, too," he called back.

She returned into the apartment, closing the door behind her with a goofy grin on her face.

"What was that?", Monica asked, refering to the couple's earlier actions. "I haven't seen you guys that giddy in a long time. Things finally get back to normal, then?"

"I don't know," Rachel admitted, the smile, however, still plastered across her face. "This morning, Ross just seemed, like . . ._normal_ Ross. Nothing seemed to be bothering him, he was acting just as Ross-like as he could. Maybe we are finally back."

"So you _do_ think things have been different?"

Rachel plopped down on the couch. "I don't know if 'different' is the word. It was different right after the big fight, but then, I don't know. We got into normal routine. But he felt really guarded. I guess he finally realised I didn't mean what I said then, you know?"

"Yeah, probably."

The phone rang, and Rachel shifted to answer it. "Hello?"

"Hey, Rach. Listen, I'm really sorry, but the museum called. I just have to go in for like an hour to help out, they're short today. Is that alright?"

She groaned, but conceded nonetheless. "I guess. Wanna meet us at the coffee house?"

"Sure."

-----

Rachel and Monica waited awhile before getting into their cold-weather garb and heading down to Central Perk. The place immediately warmed them up, with it's comfy couches, friendly atmosphere, and never-failing presence of the bright-haired Gunther behind the counter.

"Gunther? Two coffees, please," Monica called to him as they hung their coats on the hook.

"Actually, three," Rachel corrected. "Ross is coming"

Gunther shuffled to get the drinks ready, mumbling something incoherent but bitter under his breath. Rachel made herself at home on the orange couch while Monica retrieved the coffees, settling in next to her.

"So, have you and Ross been acting more normal for a while now?"

"No," Rachel said, taking a sip. "We've been trying. Not really talking about it, but really trying. I mean, I've been fine. I totally saw us as being . . . well, just like the old days. The same people and relationship. I guess I didn't notice until this morning that we haven't been."

"What happened this morning?"

"Well, it kind of started last night, actually. I fell asleep while we were watching a movie, and when I woke up, he had this real far-off look in his eyes. Like he was staring at something that wasn't there. He was thinking about our past. You know, everything we went through before we got together." She paused, piecing together her explanation in her mind before continuing. "He seemed affected by it. Like, it bothered him. I tried to lighten the mood, bring up some good times, you know? But I fell back asleep again. I don't know what went through his mind, but when I woke up, he looked lost. I could tell from his eyes. He wasn't all there. So I pulled him into bed, and told him not to think about it."

"Then what happened?"

"Well, we fell asleep. I woke up late this morning, and when I woke him up too, he seemed . . ._fine_. Like he was at peace with whatever was bothering him. I don't know what it was, but he's gotten over it. I can tell. Everything's just felt so ordinary- but in a good way. I guess I just hadn't noticed how off-track we'd gotten until I remembered how we were. It's all comfortable again."

"That's really good," Monica replied, genuinly smiling at her best friend. "But wow, I had no idea that the whole 'break' thing took such a toll on you guys. I mean, we could tell things were a bit off, but we figured it was just the normal after-fight behavior. We had no clue."

"Me either."

-----

Ross practically skipped his way into the coffee house. He'd just caught a cab from the museum, free of his work and ready to spend the rest of the evening with Rachel. He could see her and Monica chatting on the couch through the window, a coffee waiting on the table in front of an empty spot on Rachel's other side. They were waiting for him.

He was happier than he'd been in over a month. He felt sickly in love with Rachel, the kind of all-consuming emotion that had taken over him in the early stages of their relationship. Not that his love had ever faded- he just had more confidence in it now than he ever had. If he had been able to work past his own stupid problems in order to not hurt her, and succeed in that task, then he knew that he could get through anything. _They_ could get through anything.

He waltzed his way through the glass doors.

"Hey, guys, we can still catch a movie if you want."

Rachel's face lit up at the sound of his voice. "Hey, sweetie. Why don't you guys get our stuff and catch a cab. Give me some money and I'll pay for the coffee."

Monica and Ross both handed Rachel a few bucks and took their coffees, moving to get Monica and Rachel's coats at the front and catch a cab on the curb. Rachel crossed over to the counter, sorting out their money and her own, before handing it all to Gunther.

"There you go, Gunther. It's all there." She smiled brightly at her former coworker. It bothered him.

"I don't see why you're with him after what he did," he found himself saying. She looked up at him confused.

"What who did?"

"Ross. You just forgave him?"

"What did he do?", she asked, completely befuddled at what Gunther was talking about. "We had that fight like two months ago, but we're fine now."

"You didn't hear what he did after that?"

Rachel shook her head. She had no idea what was going on, and absolutely no clue where Gunther was headed with this. But she realized that she'd never questioned Ross's whereabouts that night and was curious as to what Gunther was referring to. The man took a deep breath, regretting his outburst. He didn't want to see Rachel hurt.

"Well, then maybe you shouldn't. Forget I said anything."

Rachel stared after him as he shuffled around, putting the money in the cash machine and disappearing in the back. What was he on about? . . . Did Ross do something that night?

"What did he do?", she questioned the thin air. Her heart started pounding. Ross wouldn't have done anything, right? Gunther didn't know what he was talking about. Ross would never intentionally hurt her- he'd said so himself. She'd never doubted him- she'd never had reason to.

Was this mystery enough reason?

-----

"Hey Ross, I'm really happy you and Rachel are back," Monica said to her brother. He turned to look at her, not quite sure what she meant, but getting it when he saw his sister's warm smile.

"Me too."

He flagged down a cab, holding Rachel's coat. Why wasn't she out yet? He turned to look inside, seeing her just standing there. She was at the counter, leaning against it as if she was just talking to someone. He couldn't see her face. She was probably just waiting to pay Gunther. He smiled to himself.

Things were back where they should be. He, finally, was at peace with himself. He could breath freely.

He felt like he'd escaped the chains of his actions. He waited anxiously for Rachel to come back out, so they could watch a movie, go home, cuddle - and maybe more - before going to bed.

He met her eyes through the window. He was smiling goofily, obviously happy with his placement.

Rachel faked a smile back.


	6. Chapter 6

Feels Like Tonight

"You all ready?", Ross asked her as she left the coffee house, offering her coat out to her.

"Yeah," she answered simply, distracted. She took her coat, not even bothering to put it on, and slid next to Monica in the back seat of the cab. Ross frowned a bit, noticing something was off. But he decided not to question it, because despite that, he felt lighter than he had in weeks. He got in after Rachel, closing the door and letting Monica direct the driver.

He glanced over at Rachel, and noticed her staring off into space. She wasn't blinking, making her eyes look glossy. She didn't look happy, angry, sad. She didn't look much of anything. Completely emotionless, just lost in thought. He picked up her hand and kissed it softly, offering her a shy smile when she snapped out of her reverie long enough to look at him.

She offered a tentative smile back before returning her gaze to the emptiness in front of her.

Something was bothering her, he concluded. What it could be, he wasn't sure. Wasn't she just completely fine only moments before? But he decided he'd question it later- they were in a cab with Monica and a stranger driving. And then they were going to be watching a movie. He'd just ask her when they got home, if she was even still acting this way. Rachel was the kind of person who would be upset over the littlest thing, but on to something else within minutes. He wasn't about to worry.

Today was supposed to be a good day, right?

-----

She didn't want to have these thoughts.

And yet, she couldn't rid herself of them.

Rachel sat in the stiff seat, scanning the floor around them for gum so she wouldn't ruin her new shoes. Every once in a while, her gaze drew up to the screen, blankly watching the characters but not taking anything in. She couldn't focus right now; not with these terrible thoughts.

She looked at him even less than the screen. Usually, when they were at a movie, they would be all over each other. Not necessarily making-out like teenagers in the back row, but things spark when you're close together in the dark. She could feel his arm around her shoulders, but she couldn't bring herself to further anything. These thoughts were consuming everything . . .

What _did_ happen after their fight? If anything bad happened, Ross would tell her, right? He had to have just gone out for drinks or something. Ross wasn't the kind of guy that would do anything wild.

But then why did Gunther question her "forgiveness"?

What did she have to forgive him for? For not being mad at her when she threw herself into her work instead of their relationship? For not blaming her for proposing a break at her height of frenzy? For loving her?

She didn't understand it at all. She didn't want to. Or did she? A battle was raging in her mind. Did she want to find out anything happened that night, or would she rather continue living with him, blissfully blind to any problems? _Could _she continue, with this idea plaguing her mind?

Her eyes lingered on him for only about the third time that evening. He giggled at a lame joke on the screen, and she smiled to herself. Her geeky Ross. Just looking at him made her feel slightly better. Why would this man ever hurt her? She coaxed herself into resting her head on his shoulder, and she felt his arm tighten around her. He planted a soft kiss on her forehead, then rested his cheek against it. She smiled again; he was always so gentle and tender with her. He always made her feel so protected, cared about, and loved. Neither of them had reason to hurt the other.

Just as quickly as she forgot about Gunther's words, they re-entered her mind. She struggled to squeeze them out, but they kept returning. They had to be a lie. Everyone joked about Gunther having a crush on her- he was just jealous of Ross, right? What other reason would cause him to say that?

Unless . . .

What if Ross _did _do something stupid that night?

She squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted to fall asleep against him, wake up, and forget about the conversation with Gunther. To see Ross's face when her eyes opened, to hear him tell her that he loved her. Although it was apparant that it wouldn't be that easy.

As if answering her plea, Ross leaned down so his mouth was at her ear. She could feel his lips brush against it as he whispered to her.

"I love you so much."

Now, she was squeezing her eyes shut to prevent tears. Ross was rarely straight-forward about his feelings. He was shy, bashful, and usually relied on actions rather than words. She always savored the moments where he gained enough confidence to voice his emotions without her initiating it first.

"I love you, too," she whispered back, her voice cracking. She opened her teary eyes and tilted her head back to look him straight in the face. He was smiling down at her, and leaned in to gently kiss her for a few seconds. When they broke, a tear slid down her cheek.

"Don't do that," he chuckled quietly, brushing it away with the pad of his thumb. He assumed it to be one of Rachel's regular, emotional, over-reactions. The girl did cry a lot. He kissed her sweetly on the tip of the nose before returning his gaze to the screen.

She sighed, batting away another tear that found its way out her eyes. She knew that, since she now had doubts planted in her mind, things wouldn't be the same. For how long? She didn't know. All of a sudden, things just didn't seem as simple. And it felt like it would get a lot more complicated.

Because she knew she'd have to ask him about this.

And she knew she'd never been more scared of talking to him in her life.

-----

_February 1996, one year and two months earlier_

_Rachel lay in bed, exhausted and tired. She felt Ross's arm circle around her waist, pulling her to nestle cozily against his side. She flung an arm and leg across his body as they pulled the covers up around them, cuddled in a warm haven. He stroked her bare back as she rested her head at the base of his neck, breathing deeply to smell his scent. _

_She'd never been so happy over defying a boyfriend's wishes._

_Her and Ross had only been together about two and a half weeks, but she'd never felt more comfortable in a relationship. Monica was right- it had been like starting on the fifteenth date, but in a good way. It felt so right, and was definitely worth the wait, as she'd told him. And ever since their impromptu "first time" in the planetarium the previous week, she'd felt impulsive like she'd never had. _

_So impulsive that she'd decided to get a tatoo, and talked Phoebe into getting one with her. _

_After hearing Ross's disgust at the idea, though, she'd had doubts. But why should she let a man- even Ross- tell her what to do? So she'd decided to get it anyway- a small red heart on the back of her hip. _She _thought it looked great. Monica and Richard complimented it. But she couldn't help but wonder if Ross would be mad. If he hated tatoos so much, could she have ruined anything? Did she test her limits too early in their relationship? And of course, it wasn't helped by the fact that Phoebe chickened out, leaving Rachel as the only tatooed one. It scared her to upset Ross, or to learn he was disappointed with her._

_However, he'd entered her apartment at the pristine moment she was baring her tatoo for the world to see in the kitchen. Thank God he found it attractive, rather than repulsive. Maybe they weren't going to be one of those couples that fought. _

_She smiled, feeling Ross's breathing slow down. Hopefully, they could always end situations like this right here. With each other. And sex was always great, too._

_-----_

_April 1996, one year earlier_

_Rachel briefly passed Phoebe as she made her way into her apartment, her mind whirling. Ross seemed to have mapped out the next five- if not ten- years of their future together. It scared the living daylights out of her. She hated the thought that he seemed to have decided everything for her- even if the future he thought of didn't sound so bad. But they had only been together for six weeks!_

_She didn't doubt a future with Ross. She just liked enjoying the ride, seeing where everything was going. She liked being surprised by every new twist and turn they experienced together._

_It didn't take long for Ross to follow her up, putting Ben in his playpen and questioning her on her actions. "What the hell happened back there?", he asked. So she told him._

_"I don't know, you tell me! One minute, I'm holding Ben like a football. The next thing I know, we've got two kids, and we're living in Scarsdale complaining about the taxes!"_

_It escalated into a fight. Ross didn't understand that she _liked_ not knowing what was going to happen. And she didn't understand that he cared about her enough to be confident that they _would_ have a future. She was too busy being freaked out at the fact that he'd picked their children's names out._

_"You know why?", he asked her, referring to him planning out their life together. "Because I love you!"_

_"Oh yeah?", she retorted lamely. "Well I love you too!"_

_"That's the first time we ever said that," he realized, in the same tone he had used throughout the argument._

_"Yes it is," she conceded._

_"I'm going to kiss you now," he said back._

_"You better!" And what was a fight melted into a tight embrace, a moment filled with passion and the realisation that this wasn't an ordinary relationship. They _loved_ each other. Maybe a future together in Scarsdale with a child wasn't so scary after all._

_-----_

Rachel sat back on the cab ride home. The driver had dropped off Monica at their apartment, and was now making its way down the few blocks to Ross's. She thought of all the other times she'd been scared to talk to Ross, but none of it compared to now. She didn't want confirmation that he'd hurt her. She didn't want to feel pain. But she could see no other way to get rid of these nagging doubts.

She entered the apartment before Ross, pulling out her own key before he could even get to the door. She threw her coat on a coat hook, not bothering to pick it up when it fell. She quickly crossed to the bathroom for some privacy to collect her thoughts before she brought this up to him.

He watched her, confused, and picked her coat up behind her, hanging it and his own on the hooks. Okay, if something was bothering her before, it was _definitely_ upsetting her now. But what was it?

Meanwhile, she stared at her own reflection in the mirror. She needed to work up the confidence to ask him if anything happened that night. She tried to tell herself that it would be easy, and it would end up that she had nothing to worry about. But her eyes showed uncertainty.

"Rachel?", she heard him call. "Is everything okay?"

Might as well get it over with. She opened the door, and looked him straight in the eye.

"Ross, what did you do after that fight on our anniversary?"

Quick, like a band aid.

He froze. She noticed the look of panic in his eyes, the way his hands immediately clenched into nervous fists, his increased breathing. Her heart plummeted down into her stomach. He was shaking.

Her eyes filled with tears.

"Ross?"

"Something . . .might have," he trailed off.

"Ross, what happened?", her voice stern and firm, though a little strained from the impending tears. She was shaking just as much as him now, and as much as she wanted to cover her ears and never hear his answer, she just stood there with her arms crossed tightly across her chest.

"Okay, but Rach, please remember, I would never hurt you." He held her arms tightly, beckoning her to look him in the eyes again. "I was so drunk that night, and angry, and hurt-"

"Just tell me the truth."

He took a deep breath.


	7. Chapter 7

Feels Like Tonight

**A/N: **Here we are :-P I just wrote this last night, and since Friends Cafe is having server problems, you guys get the chapter first! Haha. This chapter, I see it as being the climax. Not the end, there will still be more, but the height. Which is why the lyrics to "Feels Like Tonight" by Daughtry are included. This song is what gave me the name for the fiction, but also really inspired it. I was listening to the song after watching TOW The Morning After, and I saw a connection. And then I got this idea. So yup, its a great song and you should all definitely check it out :-P

Also, I don't wanna sound like a bitch lol, but I just wanna ask that you please leave a review. Its been hard for me to tell how this ficis going because it's not getting very many reviews, and I just wanna make sure I'm going in the right direction. Feedback is great. Even just something to say you're reading it would be fine! LOL Maybe I'm just being paranoid...

Just enjoy the chapter, lol (its a long one)

* * *

"Just tell me the truth." 

He took a deep breath. Maybe . . .maybe their relationship was at a safe enough point for this. Sure, it would undoubtably cause a fight. But, since the last one of those, they'd both realized how much they couldn't let fights define their relationship. They were worth it. Weren't they?

"I . . .", he sighed. The moment of truth had come. "I slept with another woman."

He looked into her face, dreading a reaction. But what he saw confused him. Her face was unreadable, completely indifferent. She wasn't even blinking. It was as if she didn't comprehend- or didn't even hear- what he told her. She just stared at him, her jaw tight, her arms folded tightly over her chest. He stared back, not being able to remember a time when he'd been more frightened than this. This was unbearable- he almost wished that she would just have had some big reaction. Screaming, crying, _anything. _This silence was killing him.

The second he nervously averted his eyes from her, she turned on her heel and stomped out of the room. His eyes shot up, startled from her movement, and watched her as she disappeared into his bedroom. He winced as she slammed the door shut, but finally got to his senses and followed her. Just as he got to the door and was about to turn the knob, he heard the lock click.

"Rachel," he called out, raising his voice so she could hear him through the door. "Rachel, please, I didn't mean to-"

"When were you planning on telling me?", she yelled sternly through the door. He couldn't tell, but he was pretty sure she wasn't crying, and he didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.

"I didn't want to hurt you, Rach!" Now, he could hear the undeniable sound of a muffled sob on the other side of the door.

"Yeah, cause finding out you've been lying to me about it for three months doesn't hurt at all!" she shouted at him.

He turned around, slumping his back into the door. He closed his eyes as he felt the sting of tears. He ignored it. All he could think about was how deep a hole he'd dug himself into- deeper, even, then the grave he'd fallen into at his Nana's funeral. Deeper and much more frightening. And it was all his fault.

_You, you got me_

_Thinking it'll be alright_

_You, you told me_

_Come and take a look inside_

_You believe me_

_And every single lie_

_But I, I failed you this time_

"Rach, please believe me, I've never been more sorry about anything," he called out to her. "Everything was so messed up that night! You'd just said the thing about the break, I thought we were over! Especially after hearing Mark on the other end of the phone! I was scared, confused, and drunk!"

"So if I go down to the bar right now and have a few drinks, I can sleep with someone? And it wouldn't matter?", she sarcastically shot at him.

"Rachel, I love you. You know I love you. You _know_ I would never intentionally hurt you!"

"You should have been honest with me," she replied, this coming out much softer than anything else. "You shouldn't have done it, but you should have at least told me. Cause it sure hurts worse to know you kept it a secret."

If his heart had even been whole before, it was officially broken into two right now. He knew it- the lying and secrecy had ended up having a greater impact than the fact that he slept with someone else.

"I'm so sorry I did. It's just that Chandler and Joey-"

"You took relationship advice from two guys who've never had a relationship last longer than a tick tac?", she shouted disbelievingly, raising her voice again. "_Why_ wouldn't you just come to me first? Or at least go to Monica!"

"Because I'm stupid! Is that what you want to hear from me, Rach?" His voice was strained and cracked to match hers now, both of their heads spinning and their hearts beating impossibly fast. He lowered his voice back down, knowing yelling wouldn't get them anywhere. "Listen, I just . . .I'm sorry, okay?"

_And it feels like tonight_

_I can't believe I'm broken inside_

_Can't you see that_

_There's nothing that I wanna do_

_But try to make it up to you_

_And it feels like tonight_

_Tonight_

"I just thought you were different, Ross. But you're not. You're just like the rest of them." He could tell that she was trying, unsuccessfully, to stifle her heavy sobs. He could barely hear her when she wasn't screaming at him, but the quiet words cut deeper than the shouted one. "God, I just can't even believe I trusted you."

He couldn't tell if he was meant to hear that, or if it was to himself. But he didn't blame her. Rachel had been hurt a lot of times in the past, in the same way. He just added himself to the list of boyfriends who'd cheated on Rachel Green. He hated the fact that she now associated him with the likes of Chip, Paulo, and Barry. He knew he was so much better than them . . .wait a second. He was better than them!

"You know that's not true," he replied calmly. "You know for damn sure that I'm not them. I didn't do this on purpose, Rachel! I thought you didn't want to be with me anymore! I thought we were over!"

"What, so it's my fault? Don't you dare pin this on me. Don't. You. _Dare_."

He sighed. "You're right. It's not your fault. But please, just- just give me a chance. You know I'm not trying to hurt you, I'm trying to do the exact opposite!"

"Ross, I was on the phone so late that night. I tried _so_ many times to call you, to tell you I loved you. And you were having sex with another woman! And I'm learning this three months later! Did you just think I would never find out?" Ross remained silent; he was out of words. But he was crying openly now, realizing just how much his entire life had begun falling apart in the last twenty minutes. To his surprise, he heard her unlock the door.

"I need to go home and think," she said as she slowly opened the door. He finally got a good look at her. Her hair was a mess, her clothing disheveled, her mascara running down her bright red face, mixing with her tears. He looked up hopefully at the site of her, but she shot him down just as quick. "I'm not saying that's a good thing . . .I just . . .God, I can't even look at you right now. I just have to get out of here. _Don't_ call. It didn't work for me, did it?"

All he could do was stay motionless, leaning against the wall. He watched her as she hastily grabbed her things. Right as she opened his front door, she looked back and locked eyes with him. A second later, she shook her head, let out another sob, and left.

Ross was left alone. And he had no idea how long he'd have to wait, but he knew he would wait for her forever.

_I was waiting_

_For the day you'd come around_

_I was chasing_

_But nothing was all I found_

_From the moment_

_You came into my life_

_You, you showed me what's right_

When Rachel reached her apartment, she wasn't even crying anymore. She had no tears left. Her eyes were red and sore, her body physically exhausted. Her mind was buzzing but nothing that made any sense was coming out. She had no idea how to process the information she'd just learned, and she didn't know how she would handle it.

Hearing that someone had entered, Monica came out of her bedroom, expecting to see Chandler or Joey. Instead, she was quite startled by the mess she saw. That wasn't her best friend . . .who had done this?

"Sweetie?" she asked carefully, rushing over to Rachel and immediately pulling her into a hug. Rachel buried her face in Monica's shoulder, feeling as though tears would come but knowing that they wouldn't. It stung her eyes but there was nothing she could do to stifle the pain. "What happened, is everything okay?"

Rachel pulled out of Monica's embrace. "Ross slept with someone else," she stated bluntly.

"_What?_" Monica stared at Rachel in shock, her eyes angry but searching for an explanation. All she got was a nod from Rachel as she sat on the couch. Monica quickly joined her. "When, who, _how?_"

"I don't know who," Rachel began explaining, so calm that it even surprised herself. "It was on our anniversary. When I told him we should go on a break. He actually thought we were on a break."

"Well, honey, I know what he did was terrible. But you did-"

"A break is not being broken up!", Rachel angrily inturrupted her. "And he left before we could even talk about it! We were not broken up and we were _not_ on a break. He just got mad when Mark came over to talk to me, and I guess he got drunk and jumped on the first female thing that moved," she spat bitterly.

"Rachel, I'm so sorry," Monica sincerely said, pulling her friend into another hug. She was caught between two worlds- her best friend and her brother. She knew Ross wouldn't do anything like this on purpose, but still- look what it was doing to Rachel!

"And I had that dream about it," Rachel said quietly. "Ugh, I just . . .I can't believe I trusted him. I can't believe I _loved_ him! How did I let myself love him?", Monica didn't have an answer, so she just embraced Rachel tighter. But Rachel pulled away. "And he _lied _about it. I just can't believe . . .I gotta . . .go to bed. Or something. I don't know what."

Monica just watched as Rachel helplessly wandered into her bedroom.

_And it feels like tonight_

_I can't believe I'm broken inside_

_Can't you see that_

_There's nothing that I wanna do_

_But try to make it up to you_

_And it feels like tonight_

_Tonight_

Two hours later, and she was still wide awake. Her eyes were wet again, because shortly after she'd gotten into bed, the tears seemed to replenish. She just could not make sense of any of this. There was only one thing she knew for certain, but she didn't get why.

She still loved him.

She knew, in her heart, that she did. There was not much he, or anyone, could do to make her stop. She knew he wasn't like the ex-boyfriends and fianceés of her past. But that only made the pain worse, because he truly _had_ cared for her, and he still hurt her. Chip hadn't seen her as anything more than a chance to date the cheerleading captain. She was just a trophy to hang on Barry's arm. And she just happened to be the first American woman Paulo had met. But Ross . . .Ross had _loved_ her.

So what was she to do? Stay with him, the man who cheated on her and lied about it, and loose her pride but have love? Or break things off now, and stop the downward spiraling disaster that was their relationship, but loose the one person she ever truly was connected to?

God, how badly she wanted to just go to his apartment, fall back into his arms, and forget any of this had ever happened. But it wasn't that easy. Why couldn't it be that easy?

Her head ached, her eyes ached, her whole body ached. Was Ross worth this pain? He may had been with another woman, but he _had_ thought they were on a break. But still, you don't sleep with someone an hour after you go on a break with someone else! But he was drunk, he wasn't thinking straight. But he could have just believed her about Mark in the first place!

Everything had a "but". She couldn't decide on any one way to look at this problem. Instead, she imagined what would happen if she _did_ go back to his apartment. He'd probably hug her for all it was worth, kiss her, and tell her he loved her and he would never hurt her again. And she would believe him. Eventually, she fell asleep with these thoughts, dreaming of an easier life and a surrender to her heart.

_I never felt like this before_

_Just when I leave, I'm back for more_

_Nothing else here seems to matter_

_In these ever changing days_

_You're the one thing that remains_

_I could stay like this forever..._

Ross stared out the window in his front room. He'd sat on his couch a minute after she left, and hadn't moved since. He hadn't been able to, he didn't have any strength left. The one thing keeping him alive and sane had just walked out of his apartment . . .and possibly out of his life.

Was there any possible way to mend this damage? Would it even be worth the try? He knew that Rachel could be hard-headed when she really believed in something. But at this point, she didn't know what she believed. All he could do was pray that she believed in him.

But did he even deserve it?

He cursed the day he listened to Chandler and Joey. He didn't blame them, because they didn't know any better. They didn't know love and the new set of rules it instilled in a relationship. And, even more than that day, he cursed the day he ever looked at Chloe. What did he see her as, a way to forget about his life's problems? Because, if he was remembering correctly, he'd thought of Rachel the entire time anyway.

He had officially fucked up his entire life, for good. He might be praying and wishing on every damn star in the sky that Rachel would forgive him, but he knew deep down that he didn't have the right to think that. He knew he'd be angry as hell if she gave up on him, but he also knew that he didn't deserve her love.

He, too, fell asleep dreaming of her.

_And it feels like tonight_

_I can't believe I'm broken inside_

_Can't you see that_

_There's nothing that I wanna do_

_But try to make it up to you_

_And it feels like tonight_

_Tonight..._

_Cause there's nothing that I wanna do_

_But try to make it up to you_

_And it feels like tonight ..._

_Tonight_


	8. Chapter 8

Feels Like Tonight

**A/N:** Wow, thanks for the reviews :-) Really great, I love hearing from everyone :-P I've got another chapter, its been a while since I've written one less than a week apart from the last LOL. This chapter I was a little aprehensive about, because to me, it felt like filler when I was finished. It doesnt exactly move the plot along, its more about Ross and Rachel's after-wards reaction to the fight, and how the rest of the gang is handling it. But my friend pre-read it for me, and to him, its a necessary chapter. So, whichever you see it as, I hope you like it all the same :-)

* * *

"God, can you believe this?", Monica asked, after a long stretch of silence.

"I know, it's just . . . I'd never think of Ross doing something like that, you know?", replied Phoebe.

The girls were resting in Monica's living room late that Sunday. They hadn't found much to discuss, other than the shocking events of the night before. None of the gang could believe it.Things like this weren't _supposed_ to happen to Ross and Rachel. Even worse- would they be forced to pick sides? No one could settle on just which side was right. And not only did this whole ordeal confuse them to no end, but they found themselves losing a little hope for the future. Ross and Rachel had always been their prime example of finding true love- especially since Monica and Richard broke up- and now, they had nothing.

"I know," Monica quietly answered. "It's so weird."

Her eyes lingered on Rachel's bedroom door. It had been shut since Rachel went to bed the night before. Every once in a while, Monica could hear movement behind it. But Rachel hadn't come out. And every time Monica tried, the door was locked. What was she doing in there?

"We should try to get her out," Phoebe offered, following Monica's eyesight and reading her mind.

"I've tried, it's locked, and she won't answer me through the door."

"This is spooky. Do you think she died?", Phoebe questioned flakily. Monica almost laughed out loud, until she looked at Phoebe's face and saw that she was being serious. Then she held her giggle in to herself.

"No, I don't think so Phoebs. She moves around every so often."

"Oh."

Just then, Chandler and Joey quietly entered the apartment. Both of them had been weary since the night before, feeling slight pangs of guilt. The girls tried to convince him that it wasn't their fault- they didn't know any better, and Ross _should_ have known better- but it didn't stop them from feeling bad.

"Have you guys heard from either of them?", Chandler asked, keeping his voice low so Rachel couldn't hear.

"No," Monica asked. "You mean you still haven't gotten a hold of Ross?"

"He won't answer his phone," Joey answered, frustrated.

"Rachel still won't come out of her room," Phoebe said, looking down.

"Do you think she died?", Joey asked, wide-eyed with curiosity and worry.

"Where have you been, Tribbiani?", Phoebe asked him with a sarcastic laugh, as if she hadn't said the same thing a few minutes before. Chandler stared blankly at the two, and Monica rolled her eyes before sighing.

"This is terrible." The other three nodded in agreement.

-----

Rachel stared at her pink wall, clutching her pillow tightly to her chest. She could hear everyone murmuring just outside her door, but she didn't have the strength to get up and face them. What would she say? Surely they would ask her questions. Questions that she was still struggling to find the answers to.

She was still in her wrinkled clothes from the day before. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were red and sore, her stomach was empty and growling. But she ignored it all; her mind had no room for things like that now. After the minimal sleep she'd gotten, all she'd done was think. She thought that after sleeping, her mind would be clear, and she could settle on an answer to this all. But all sleep brought her were bittersweet dreams about Ross.

She sniffled, not really crying, but close to. Her pillow was warm against her, but offered her little comfort. She had to move.

Slowly, she lifted herself from the bed, leaving her pillow behind. There was a cold spot on her chest and stomach where it had been sitting the past few hours, so she crossed her arms over it. Hm, maybe it wasn't just from the pillow's absence.

The other four could still be heard in the living room and kitchen, so she decided that she'd just stay put. She sat at the chair at her desk, her eyes wandering aimlessly around her room. They stopped on a shoe box, sitting on a shelf in her open closet. She sighed deeply, her breath shaking a bit, and got up to retrieve it. She set it on her lap as she took a seat on the edge of her bed, and removed the lid.

Her Ross box. The secret place that she kept everything special from their relationship. She gently slid her hand across the items before pulling them out. Maybe it was remembrance. Maybe it was hopefulness. She bitterly laughed to herself- maybe it was insanity.

A ticket stub from their first date. Rachel smiled to herself, remembering how the film had been foreign with subtitles, and she'd refused to wear her glasses. That whole night seemed forever and a day ago. How he'd held her hand the entire time, and every once in a while, she'd look up at him to see her was already staring at her. The first time she'd actually felt shy around a guy, but . . .no one had ever put her up like he did. Sure, they would gaze and whisper sweet nothings in her ear. But mostly, those were shallow gestures. Ross had always been genuine.

Shaking her head, she set the stub down before musing over the other artifacts; a fossil she'd secretly taken after their first night together in the planetarium, an eggshell from the first time he made her breakfast, the sweet, hand-written birthday card he'd given her last year. At the bottom, she found the Valentine's Day card from a few months earlier. Then she frowned.

That had been after their anniversary.

After he . . .

She couldn't even bring herself to think of it. Becoming suddenly angry, she stuffed everything back into the box, slamming the lid to cover it all. She pushed it up the length of the bed, determined to get it as far away from her as possible.

What would happen if things ended? They'd just move on, date other people, like nothing happened? Would they even be friends? She couldn't imagine seeing him with another woman. She couldn't imagine being around him, but not _with_ him. What if he fell in love with someone else?

But what if he hurt her again?

"Love sucks," she thought to herself, letting out a breath and letting her back fall against the mattress in defeat.

-----

"Hi, you've reached Ross, please leave a message and I'll get back to you." _Beep!_

"Hey man, it's Chandler. I know you're home, please, just pick up the phone . . . Come on, would ya? . . . What are you, a monk? Talk to us! . . . I'm gonna give the phone to Monica, okay?"

"Hey, Ross? It's me. Come on, we're all really worried about you. Please pick up the phone, we really want to talk to you . . . You know what, fine. We're gonna be at Central Perk tonight, if you're ready. We're worried, okay? No, Joey, don't-"

"Ross, are you dead? Or deaf? Pick up!"

_Beep!_

Ross turned over in bed, squinting his eyes at the clock on his bedside table. 2:34pm. How did it get so late? He rubbed his eyes, trying to wake up as he let out a yawn. His head was pounding like mad, and he questioned why until he saw what lay on the floor- an empty bottle of vodka. Ah, that explained things.

He blinked slowly, trying to recall how he got here. He knew that he'd stayed up all hours of the night after she left, unable to move. He'd been in shock for quite a while, before finally breaking down and sobbing. It took another few hours for him to ease into the full-on anger stage, where he'd gone directly to his alcohol and chugged half of what was left of the vodka and punched a hole into the wall, before drinking more and eventually passing out on his bed.

He glanced down at his now bruised and cut fist. Funny, how the pain seemed to seep up his whole arm now, when he hadn't felt a thing the night before. As he cast his eyes up his arm, massaging it with his other hand, he noticed sweat. He was in nothing but his boxers, in bed under nothing but a sheet, but sweating profusely. He took one disgusted look at his damaged hand and left the room for the bathroom.

As he pulled Asprin out of the medicine cabinet, he glanced at the reflection of the shower in the mirror. Sitting there was Rachel's shampoo and conditioner, neatly in a row next to his own. He looked away, swallowing a few pills dry. He felt them slowly descend down his throat, not even alert enough to be bothered by the painful lumps they created. He spat into the sink, drank a sip of water, and retreated back to his couch.

This was not healthy. He knew it wasn't. The sane, rational thing would be to talk this over. But his mind wasn't on doing the sane, rational thing. For some reason, he wanted to feel the pain. He knew he deserved it. And he knew the only thing keeping him from picking up that phone or storming out the door and down the street to her apartment was her. He didn't want to disrespect her plea. If she wanted to be left alone, she'd be left alone. Let her work things out. He had his misery to keep him company.

But this silence . . . it was terrible. He made a face at the blank air in front of him, as if he was offended by it's absence of sound. It was mocking him. He got up, scanning his eyes down his row of CDs. He grabbed a certain one, one that he knew would understand his pain. He pressed play and collapsed back onto the couch, letting the deep plunk of the base ease him as it filled the room.

-----

"Did you just hear her move around in there?", Phoebe asked hopefully, pointing in the direction of Rachel's room. They sat silent, listening intently to what was going on inside the room . . .

They heard some rustling, followed by the creak of mattress springs. Then it was quiet.

"And she's down again," Chandler lamented. "Let's just go to the coffee house, maybe Ross will come to his senses and meet us down there."

Everyone conceded, as they got into their coats and began heading out the door.

"Go ahead," Monica called after them. "I gotta get my purse, I'll be right down."

They all shuffled out the door and into the hallway, as Monica crossed the apartment to her bedroom. After looking through her closet, she found her purse safe on a shelf with her others. She smiled; thank God for organization. As she left her room, she heard a soft noise come from Rachel's. She furrowed her brow, quietly drawing nearer to Rachel's door.

Rachel was clearly sobbing on the other side. Monica's heart broke in two, because for once, she couldn't help her best friend. It wasn't just because Rachel seemed to be ignoring the existance of any other human being. It was because Monica knew that ultimately, Rachel would have to decide this for herself. And so would Ross. This was something they had to figure out on their own. Monica only hoped that, whatever the outcome, they'd come away from this learning something. And, hopefully, not hating each other.

She sighed before reluctantly leaving the apartment, locking the door behind her.

"What were you doing?", Joey asked, as she met them on the sidewalk in front of the building.

"Nothing, just had to find my purse."

"What, was it on the shoe shelf instead of the purse shelf?", Chandler asked, dripping in sarcasm.

"I won't tell you where it was, but I can tell _you _where to put it," she shot back. Without another word, she led the way down the street to the warm comfort of Central Perk.

-----

Rachel buried her face in her pillow, the sobs coming faster and stronger. She was surprised there were any tears left, and that she actually had the strength to let them out. Then again, that was still the least surprising thing of late.

She could hear the door to the apartment close, and it was silent. She was alone.

And she'd never been more aware of it.

Pulling the comforter up over her shaking body, she closed her eyes to the world, squeezing them tight as if it would relieve her of some of this pain. How could he do this to her? How could he make her go through this?

How did she still love him?

-----

Ross lay on the couch, half out of it. His eyelids were partially closed, his eyes glazed. A few empty beer cans littered the floor beneath. His breathing was shallow, yet heavy. As if he was sleeping with a weight on his chest.

"Rachel . . .", he called out hoarsly in surrender, as he turned over on the couch. "I need you."


	9. Chapter 9

Feels Like Tonight

**A/N: **Well, folks, the end hath come. This chapter is the last chapter in the sequence of the story, although I have every intention of an epilogue. An epilogue is necessary in the way I ended this chapter. But see, I had my friend test it out, and he brought to my attention how abrupt the ending was. So I realize that, unless I explain myself, it comes off as incredibly bad writing. There will be explanation in the epilogue. The end is rather random and abrupt because I like to leave chapters open. I don't like the feeling of finalization, which is why I often end with cliffhangers. However, I always try to explain the end of one chapter in the next. I will definitely explain the how's and why's in the epilogue, as I already have them worked out (otherwise, I would not have given it this ending). So please, _please_ bear with me and not give up on me, haha. If I could have thought of a better way to come to the ending, I would have. But I didn't think there would be enough to write another chapter out. And I liked the way I set it up, sort of a "get it now and ask later". You'll get a sense of the ending and find out what it took to get there later. I'm sorry if you don't like this, but it's sort of my style. At least for this story.

Plus, I'm anxious to finish and move on to my next fic idea :-P

* * *

"Rach?" A knock at the door. "Rachel, please come out today. Please?"

Silence.

"Well if you want to come out, I'm gonna be just out here in the kitchen until work, alright? We're worried about you, please, think about coming out."

At the sound of Monica's voice, Rachel was stirred out of a sleep she didn't remember falling into. She blinked in the morning light, confused as to when and how she got where she was. Laying in bed, in her pajamas, just as if last night were any other. When did she change clothes? . . . When did she even get into bed?

She sat up, rubbing her eyes. Taking a good look around the room, she finally remembered last night. After she'd heard Monica come home, and "secretly" press her ear against the door for signs that Rachel was alright, she'd decided that she couldn't do this anymore. It wasn't fair to her friends, it wasn't fair to herself, and even after what he did . . . it just wasn't fair to leave Ross hanging like this.

She needed to join the world again. She needed to face her friends.

She needed to come to a decision.

-----

Ross woke up, tangled in the afgan that hung from the back of the couch, smelling nothing but the stale stench of the night before's alcohol. What a morning after to wake up to. He couldn't remember a time where he'd felt worse about himself.

And, upon stumbling to the bathroom to replenish on Asprin, he'd never looked worse. He had aquired some more facial hair than usual, his five o'clock shadow having been unshaven for over twenty-four hours. He had bags under his eyes, and scrapes failing to heal on his knuckles. Forgetting about the medicine, he quickly undressed and hopped in the shower. No use neglecting himself anymore, even if he didn't have anyone to look good for.

As the warm water cascaded down on him, he took a moment to think about her. What had she been doing? Was she in as much pain as he was in? Would she ever forgive him? . . . Did she still love him?

He pondered what life without Rachel would be. It just wasn't plausable. What, would he just move on, continuing the pointless game of dating until he found someone who would _maybe_ feel half as right as Rachel did? He couldn't understand, that just didn't seem like something he could do. Now that he'd had a taste of heaven, how could he go back to earth? Now that he'd experienced sight, why would he walk around with his eyes closed?

He shook his head, and then realized he'd been crying. The tears were well hidden, mixing with the water that continued to downpour on him. He looked over and saw, once again, the various bottles of shampoo and soap that belonged to Rachel. They sat there together with his as if they were meant to. It all fit. _They_ fit.

And the oddest epiphany washed over him. It wasn't comforting in the least, but he knew it was true.

Life without Rachel . . . just wouldn't be life.

-----

Monica was halfway through her breakfast when she was startled by the sound of Rachel's door openning. Her head quickly snapped up to survey what was behind it. Her eyebrows rose in shock and sympathy at the sight before her.

This wasn't the Rachel she knew._ Her _Rachel was always strong, confident, and smiling. Not this defeated, worn girl she saw behind that door.

"Oh my God, honey," she let out, quickly rushing over to meet her best friend in a hug. She noticed how weakly Rachel hugged back, and wondered just what had been going through her head. More importantly, though she'd never admit it out loud, she wondered what Rachel had decided to to about Ross. He was her brother, after all.

When they pulled apart, Rachel offered her a very feeble, forced smile. "Hey," she said simply, her voice cracking from lack of use. "I'm sorry."

"For what?", Monica asked in confusion, leading Rachel over to the couch that held witness to so many girl talks in the past.

"For shutting everyone out. You guys deserve to know what's going on."

"Oh, sweetie, don't even worry about it. We just hoped you were okay." She waited a beat. "_Are_ you?"

Rachel sighed deeply, the breath rattling a bit in her chest. She still felt weak from the lack of sleep and food. "Not exactly." She caught a whiff of the pancakes Monica had made herself, and shot them a hopeful, longing look.

"There's extras on the counter," Monica answered, as if reading Rachel's mind. "I knew you'd be hungry, so I made a ton in case you came out." Rachel smiled; her best friend knew her so well.

"Thank you, Mon," she stated sincerely. Monica led her over to the kitchen counter, unloading five big pancakes on her plate. At Rachel's protests, Monica insisted that she needed as much food as she could eat. Finally, Rachel conceded, and even ended up having one more than Monica forced on her. Meanwhile, Monica merely watched her eat, her foot jiggling in anticipation at what Rachel had decided. She could only hope for the best.

Before she could get right down to it, Phoebe burst through the door. At the sight of Rachel, she shrieked in delight.

"Rach! You're alive, I knew it!" She pulled Rachel into a quick and very tight hug, which Rachel warmly recieved. Monica finally saw a genuine smile plastered on Rachel's fatigued face, and thanked whatever it was that made Phoebe come to visit at that exact time. Phoebe always made you smile. After the two pulled out of the hug, it was Phoebe who cut to the chase. "So, what's going on . . . you know, with everything?"

Rachel shook her head sadly. "I don't know for sure. But . . . but I think I know what I'm gonna do. For now."

"Really? What?", Monica asked, a little too eagerly. Seeing her two best girlfriends staring at her expectantly, Rachel led them back into the living room so she could collapse on the couch. Phoebe sat next to her, offering a shoulder to rest on, as Monica took a seat in the big, comfy chair.

"I . . . I still don't really know how I feel about everything," Rachel began. She paused a moment, her eyes getting misty as she averted them to her lap. Phoebe put an arm around her supportively to help her out. "I do know that I still . . . I still love him." Rachel didn't even have to look up to know that Monica and Phoebe's faces had lit up with a spark of hope. "But I'm not sure I'm ready for us to be . . . _us_, you know?", she corrected. "I still think of him . . . with someone else. Right now, I just can't get this image out of my head, and . . . I know I'm just not ready for that. It wouldn't be fair to either of us."

"So, what are you going to do?", Monica asked, when Rachel took a suspended moment of silence.

"I'm gonna wait until I am ready," she concluded. "I'm not ready to give up on us, on him. Not completely. I can't imagine . . . another guy in his spot, you know? That just wouldn't feel right. But nothing feels right, not now. So I'm just going to wait until it does, I guess."

"Wow," Phoebe said. "So when you can forgive him, that's when you're going to be ready?"

"Yeah," Rachel replied, as if how rational this was had just dawned on her. She had been nervous and apprehensive about this decision before, but . . . maybe this was the best way to go about it. "That's exactly it."

"I think that's a good answer," Monica replied, smiling. She was happy that, someday, her best friend and brother would be reuinited. She had no doubt in her mind that it wouldn't take long for Rachel to find Ross again. There was too much love there. 'By Christmas . . .', she mused to herself.

"Yeah, I mean, maybe that'll make Ross cheer up a little," Phoebe let slip. Monica winced at Phoebe actually saying Ross's name out loud, fearing how Rachel would handle it. Surprisingly, she remained calm . . . or as calm as she could be.

"Maybe," she replied.

-----

"If you don't come out, I will break this door down!"

"He's ready man, I think you should listen," Chandler noted.

He stood outside Ross's apartment with Joey, both trying desperately to get him out of his apartment. Chandler watched in comfusion as Joey reared up to actually ram his shoulder into Ross's door. Before he could get a word in edgewise, Joey had taken off . . .

Just as Ross finally opened the door, sending Joey flying into the room until he hit the couch.

"It worked!", he exclaimed, completely clueless.

When Chandler hesitantly entered the apartment, he couldn't keep his eyes off Ross. What the hell had he done to himself? He quickly ran his eyes over the apartment, covered in yesterday's clothing and discarded beer cans.

"I like what you've done with the place," he quipped, hoping to lighten the mood. But there was no wiping the despair off Ross's face.

"Where's Monica?", he asked.

"What, we're not enough?", Joey exclaimed, hurt.

"I want to talk to Monica," was all Ross would say.

"We'll get her, man."

-----

"Ross?", Monica called, after being forced to visit her brother by Chandler and Joey. She had somehow become the aide to both sides of this argument- and she wasn't quite sure she could handle that. But he was her brother, and of course, she'd do anything she could to help him.

"How is she?", Ross asked, coming to his door quickly.

"I'm fine, by the way," she joked. Upon entering his place, and surveying his appearance, she had a similar reaction to Chandler's. "Which you are not. My God, what happened?"

"How is Rachel?", he demanded. She sighed and sat on his couch, after pushing his mess into a neat pile on the other cushion.

"Not much better than you, by the looks of this place." She noticed how his demeanor seemed to slip even lower, as he hung his head in guilt.

"I can't believe I did this to her," he whispered. Monica quickly rushed to his side, rubbing his back soothingly.

"Ross, please, don't beat yourself up about this. You didn't mean to hurt Rachel. But yes, she's pretty hurt by all of this, I'm not going to lie. But . . . she's not giving up on you. Completely."

At this information, Ross's head popped up to look at his sister, a gleam of hope showing on his face. His eyes bore a hint of the sparkle they used to hold anytime the conversation turned to Rachel.

"Really?"

"Give her time, sweetie. She . . . she can't forgive you. Not yet." At this, any hint of a sparkle, however small, faded. "But she wants to. She'll make her peace with it, someday. She'll find her way back. Just give her the time she needs. _Don't give up._"

Ross's eyebrows raised. Rachel might not have faith in him- in their relationship, right now. But . . . but she would try. He didn't even care how long it would take. Just to know that she loved him enough to work towards reconciling . . . that spoke wonders to him.

"Are you gonna be okay?", Monica asked.

"Yeah, eventually," he answered, accepting the hug she offered him. "I just love her so much."

"I know you do. She loves you too, remember that. She'll come around."

He, finally, for the first time in forty-eight hours, cracked a smile.

"I don't even care if she's still in love with me. I just want to know that everything's okay. I want to hear her say it. I . . . I hate that I hurt her. She doesn't have to love me. I just hope she can forgive me."

"She will," Monica assured. "Now, I'm meeting Chandler and Joey at the coffee house. How about you take a shower and _clean this apartment_ and meet us down there for lunch?"

He laughed at his sister's predictability. "Sure." They hugged one more time before Monica turned to leave. "Hey," he called after her. "Thank you."

She smiled. "Anytime, bro."

He watched her leave, feeling a little happier and a _lot_ lighter than he had in two days. He now knew Rachel's decision, and while it wasn't exactly what he dreamed for, it gave him hope. He had faith again. Life without her, in the meantime, would be hard. But he was positive that it would all be worth it in the end.

_Cause there's nothing that I wanna do  
__But try to make it up to you  
__And it feels like tonight ...  
__Tonight_

-----

_5 Months Later..._

Ross wiped his hands off with a towel, bidding farewell to the people emptying out of his apartment. Monica held on to little Ben's hand as the boy yelled a happy "goodbye!" to his father before Monica took him home to his moms. Ross smiled at his son, closing the door behind them.

He then turned around to face his empty apartment. This place still seemed so hollow, lately.

He mechanically went through his nighttime routine. Shower, brush teeth, turn on his air filter, get into bed by 10:30. Stare at her picture that still resided on his bedside table. Try as hard as he can to get through one more night alone.

He was woken by a soft knock on his front door. It was faint, but at the same time, seemed to carry through the apartment to his ear. He lifted himself from bed, curious and confused, to go answer whoever this late-night mystery guest was.

He froze at the sight of her on the other side of the door. Her eyes looked so much brighter since the last time he'd stared into them. She wasn't smiling, but the air around her made him feel warm inside. It comforted him. But why was she here?

Before he could ask, she answered with two simple words.

"It's okay."


	10. Epilogue

Feels Like Tonight

**A/N: **This is it, folks :-P Epilogue time. I was actually pretty surprised that I wrote this last night. Its not very long, but I got in this random writing mood out of nowhere. Well, its mostly cause I already have a very solid idea for my next fic and I'm pretty excited to start it hehe. That and the fact that I kept rereading the last chapter to "Bed Of Roses" by Tina Chaves (if you havent read it, wtf? go do so now!) and I dunno, it got me in a real good RnR mood hehe. I've actually had this exact ending planned for weeks, I made it up in my head when I was on my floor watching a movie in my bedroom. I thought "Gee, how could this be better if I had Ross here?" LOL. But yeah, this is an end to a story that I actually really like. I know, you're like "Wtf, you've written 3 long(ish) stories only" lol. I actually wrote another one, it was around like 15 chapters I think, but I only posted it at Friends Cafe. It was a fic that I was pretty unhappy with by the end so I never loaded it here. But anyways, lol

Oh, and I have like a huge favor to ask haha. I always, when I know a fic is winding down, set myself a goal for how many reviews I'd like to get (lol). My goal of 80 for "Your Ad Here" didn't get met, so you guys gotta help me out here :-P My goal is 50. Hehe. Really, guys, I just love reviews. This fic hasn't been one where I've gotten a great deal, which is probably why it got a bit hard to write for a few weeks. I love hearing what you had to say! So even if the review just says "I read this", I'd love to hear from you haha.

So I hope everyone enjoyed this story :-)

* * *

_1 Year, 6 Months Later..._

Rachel shifted a bit as she readjusted the pillow under her head and pulled the knit blanket more tightly around her. She was propped up on her side, fervently watching a movie on the television. Somehow, she could block out the discomfort of the bare floor beneath her. She simply couldn't get herself to complain about it, not in the position she was on. So instead, she shifted her attention to the film and the man who's chest laid against her back and who's arm slung protectively around her waist as he, too, was on his side behind her.

"Hey, stop hogging the blanket," he teased, pulling it almost off her to cover himself.

"Ross, come on, it's freezing in here!"

After a few more minutes of bickering, both settled down with a quick kiss to focus on the ending of the movie. They shifted so Ross could rest his back against the couch, still covered in plastic from moving day the day before. Rachel then moved to sit between his legs, her back again to his chest and his arms hugging her around her waist. She looked around, breathed in the air. The clean air in her new apartment, recently bought after she found herself with a fianceé. She gazed down at her left hand, resting on top of Ross's arm. She still found herself losing her breath everytime she stared at the diamond.

"Looking forward to it?", he whispered quietly, watching her stare at the ring.

"As long as you don't do anything stupid before next month, than yes," she joked. He punched her lightly in the arm, then pulled her closer as they once again returned their attention to the film.

-----

To say the last two years were easy would be very generous. People always found themselves in awe when they heard the story of Ross and Rachel's hectic and rocky history with each other. There were always a million questions- why did she come back? What got her to forgive him? Why, exactly, did he do it in the first place?

These were always things they liked to keep to themselves. It was barely a discussed subject between even themselves. Why bother, when everything was forgiven and forgotten? They were here, now, and to them, that was all that mattered. Everything was implicit. They'd moved on.

Rachel, only, knew exactly what had brought her back. She always knew she loved Ross. As much as she hadn't wanted to admit it back then, she knew he was different than the other guys of her past. He didn't cheat on her for the hell of it, like Chip, or because their relationship was lacking, like Barry, or because . . . he was hot and Italian and evidently _could_, like Barry. He had been deeply hurt by what he thought was their "break". But that alone wasn't enough for her to overlook the tremendous pain he'd caused her, because since he _did_ love her, it only intensified the hurt. The wounds cut deeper.

So she kept her distance. For an entire month, Rachel didn't see, hear, or speak of Ross. It was hard at first, but every day she felt herself get stronger. There were nights where she'd cry herself to sleep, feeling lonely in her empty bed with her heavy heart. There were mornings where she'd wake up, wondering what she did to deserve this. There were days where she hated his memory and days where she'd do anything to get it back. But the scars left her with a renewed sense of self-confidence- she was getting through this in relatively one piece.

She hadn't even planned on running into him. A little over a month after the initial fight, she made her regular pit stop at Central Perk. While none of the gang ever told her, she figured that Ross was avoiding what he knew to be her normal time. But that day, when she made her way up to the glass doors, she saw him on the couch, between Monica and Joey, as Phoebe chatted brightly from the armchair. She almost turned around, until she caught a quick glance at his face. He was just turning around to ask Gunther for a refill, but she could see it. The bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, the absence of the normal twinkle she always saw deep in his eyes. Everything that made him Ross just wasn't there.

With a deep sigh, her feet had somehow led her into the coffee house. Phoebe, Joey, and Monica panicked slightly, wondering if they'd be witnessing the show-down of the year or a possible reunion. They were disappointed either way. Rachel, to them, seemed unaware of Ross's presense at all. As she got up to go back to work, however, her eyes locked onto his briefly. It only lasted a split second before she turned and was gone.

A few more awkward encounters later, the gang found Rachel becoming more and more comfortable. She could say hi to Ross. They would ask generic "How are you"s and answer simply. But it was progress. And everyone knew that the secret glances the two always cast at each other weren't so secret.

Eventually, Rachel found herself functioning normally without Ross as her boyfriend. She was accomplishing things on her own. But at the same time, how fulfilling was a success if you didn't have that one special person to share it with? So, even though she could live without him, she increasingly found herself not _wanting_ to. She'd experienced life without Ross. Now, she was ready to give another chance at life _with_ him.

Ross found himself in a similar situation. To his own surprise, his guilt and his pain didn't kill him. He got through the days. He would have given anything to know she'd forgiven him, he would have sold his own soul to take back his actions. But God knows he tried as hard as he could to be patient. If anything, he owed her that. He just hoped things would come together with time.

And, five months after the commotion, he found himself opening the door to his own redemption. To his renewal. _She_ was his salvation.

No one knew for sure what happened that night. But whatever had gone on, it was the saving grace for both of them. They had been temporarily lost, but somehow found their way through all the shit, all the scars, all the mess . . . to each other.

One year later, they were engaged. Two months later, she moved her things out of Monica's apartment and into the only other place worthy of the name "home"- Ross's apartment. The wedding was set to go in another five months after that, which gave them some time to find a bigger place. A home they could create _together_- to make the life she should have gotten before worth all the wait. Of course, they could have lived in the streets and been happy. They had each other.

-----

So here they found themselves, in what used to be Ugly Naked Guy's apartment, eager to embark in this new chapter of their lives. Every building point in their relationship reaffirmed Rachel of her decision. Every little step closer to an inevitable lifetime together healed Ross's remaining regrets. They learned to appreciate the past, because it brought to the light just how much they meant to each other. They were in it for the long run.

Rachel yawned widely as the movie ended, the credits scrolling down the screen. Ross grabbed the remote sitting a few feet away on the floor and shut off the tv, blanketing the room in black darkness. The only light came from the large window that faced Monica's apartment, letting in the soft glow from the moon and streetlights. Neither moved from their comfortable position.

Eventually, Rachel felt Ross's hands rub her arms, then work their way down to squeeze her thighs. She let her head roll to the side as he began kissing her neck, sucking and biting until she let out a soft moan.

"Ross," she protested, "I'm so tired, sweetie. Tomorrow night, I-" she yawned again, further proving her point,"- promise."

Hardly one to force Rachel into anything she didn't want to do, Ross ended his ministrations.

"Tired, huh?", he asked, and surprised her by standing up, and taking her into his arms. Being careful not to stumble on anything, he carried her through the dark, to the short hallway in the back of the apartment that led to the bedrooms. Two, to be exact. Theirs was the last one, but something caused Ross to pause for a moment, overlooking the empty room that was full of nothing but unpacked boxes.

"What do you see in here? You know, for later?", he asked her curiously, even as he felt her head rest against his chest in exhaustion. But she didn't buy it- she knew his intentions underneath the seemingly innocent question.

"Why, do you see a bassinet in the corner?", she teased. She had to admit, the thought did bring a smile to her face.

"Maybe," he admitted, looking down at her with a goofy grin. They looked at each other for a few suspended moments, before she reached up and lightly kissed him on the lips.

"Me too," she whispered, leaning her forehead against his.

Satisfied with her reaction, Ross then proceeded to carry her to their bedroom. They had gotten into their pajamas prior to turning the movie on, so he simply plopped her down on her side of the bed, before circling around and getting in his. He pulled back the covers, patting the space beside him to beckon her to join him under the sheets. She conceded, burrowing into his side as he wrapped his arms around her. As she laid her head on his chest, she let out a warning.

"Hug-and-roll-and-be-single."

He chuckled, both of them knowing he was way past his old immaturity. He was happy to sleep with her in his arms, now, since everything that had happened. He'd rather be a "cuddly sleeper" than to not have her at all any day. So he only tightened his grip on her, intertwining their legs and letting his head fall back against the down pillow.

"Sweetie?", he heard her whisper.

"What?", he mumbled, already half-way to dream land.

"I love you."

It was the quietest little voice that she always said this in, especially at night. Ross loved it- it made him feel like it was something only for his ears. No one else had to know about it, it was just between them. He shifted to his side a bit, causing her to slide off his chest. He cupped her face in one of his hands, bringing her closer for one last kiss before they went to sleep.

Of course, "one last kiss" usually turned into a few minutes.

As he pulled away, he looked straight into her eyes. "I love you, too."

She smiled, and they reassumed their previous position. Both let out a relieved sigh, one they would probably let out every night for quite some time. Life, somehow, had just worked out. They knew they'd have a battle before them, because every couple does. But they just knew that there were more important things.

"If you weren't so tired, we could get a jumpstart on filling that room right now," Ross joked through the stillness of the room.

Without opening an eye or lifting her head, Rachel grabbed the pillow on her side of the bed, and smacked him in the face with it.

"Ow!"

"Goodnight, honey," she said, before returning the pillow to it's spot, and rolling over to her side so her back was to him. He whimpered in protest, throwing an arm around her waist to bring her closer, spooning her from behind.

And she wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
